May The 2nd
by Kisses Under The Apple Tree
Summary: Finding out about Fred's death: each different Weasley's point of view. I suck at summaries, okay?
1. Charlie

A/N: HAIIII GUYS ONCE AGAIN I AM BACK READY AS EVER! its May 2nd /3 so time to write a war fic. review please?

It's been five years. Five, long, miserable years since the war. We were sitting in the back garden of the Burrow, Victorie running around our feet. Percy was with his fiance Audrey, Harry sitting with Ginny, Bill helping Fleur and her enormously pregnant belly into a chair, George looking extremely morose beside Angelina, who had her hand on his arm, Ron and Hermione were running late and Mum and Dad were in the kitchen, no doubtedly crying their eyes out for their lost son. As for me, I sat here with burn scars on my arms and my hair long, just as always. I was the only one who hadn't changed since the war. Is that because I wasn't there, wasn't around at the time? Maybe so. My mind drifted back to that night, the night I lost my brother and the night our family changed forever.

It had been a cool night in Romania. I had just come inside from work, to find my girlfriend at the time Darcy had cooked dinner. I smiled at her, kissed her cheek and sat down. She remained standing, her expression hard.

"What's wrong Darce?" I asked her, worried. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. She withdrew a letter from a drawer nearby and set it down in front of me. I recognized the Hogwarts seal. Why on earth would Hogwarts be sending me a letter? I opened it and saw Professor McGonagall's handwriting.

_Dear Mr Weasley,_

_This past morning a battle commenced at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This battle resulted in a triumphant victory and the death of Voldemort, but not without casualties. Fredrick Gideon Weasley was killed by a falling wall at 5:48 this morning. Nymphadora Tonks also passed at 3:19 am. I offer my deepest condolences to you and your loved ones._

_Signed,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall._

I stared blankly at the paper for a few minutes until Darcy's voice snapped me out of it.

"Charlie, I am so so sorry." she said quietly, taking a seat beside me and laying a hand on my arm. I stood up, not taking any notice of her and walked out, Disapparating. I never returned and I never saw her again.

A/N: I'm thinking I should do a tonne of these, for each Weasley? Yeah? No? Tell me in the reviews!


	2. George

Perhaps it was chance that I was the one left. I reckon it was more down to the fact Fred was better than me. That had to be it. It was "Fred and George" not "George and Fred". For a very good reason too. Here I was sitting in the Burrow garden, Angelina next to me, "reflecting" on his death. My mind wandered away from today and back into the past, like it had so many times.

"Lee, George, go that way, Fred, Oliver, come with me!" Remus yelled, his wand defending us. I grinned at my twin and ex Quidditch captain before running down the corridor with my best friend. We fought off several Slytherin students, little buggers, always knew they'd turn if worst came to worst, and managed to push a death eater out the window, to his death. We were in the Hufflepuff dorms, helping to get a few frightened first years that had snuck back in out, when it happened. I felt a numbness come over me, a certain cold feeling. I knew exactly what happened. I looked to Lee in horror and sprinted off towards the hallways that lead to the Ravenclaw common room. The wall was collapsed, Percy, Harry and Ron were screaming, and Hermione was sobbing. I watched in terror as they dragged Fred's lifeless body from the rubble, with a smile still etched on his face. I wondered what was possibly so funny. I stumbled backwards, tripping over some rubble. The whole world seemed to freeze, and the battle raging on meant nothing anymore. I don't know how, but slipping away seemed easy. I got into an abandoned classroom, locking the door behind me. Turning around, I saw an abandoned mirror in the corner, with "Mirror of Erised" carved along the top. It was covered in dust and filth, and the frame was covered in rust. I stared into it, seeing my own reflection. My own red hair, my own eyes, my own oval shaped face, everything. Only thing different was that I had two ears instead of one. Why was it showing that? The mirror then smiled, and I understood.

It wasn't me it was showing, it was Fred.


	3. Bill

Wars are terrible things.

Even now I was reminded by the gaping hole in my family. Even now its like a punch in the gut, always reminding us.

"He's not here.''

And neither is Tonks. Or Lupin. Or Sirius or Lily or James or Dumbledore. All of them victims, all of them destroyed by the familiar horrors of war.

I had never been the type of person to think about the harsher side of life. Hell, I'm a curse breaker, aren't I? It was my job to think positively because if I didn't, I'd be reminded every day about how I could be killed.

But after Fred died, I lost my sense of positivity.

I still remember every detail of that night, the crippling fear, the death and destruction. However, the most painful memory is when I saw his body lying there, on the ground, still smiling.

Its hard for me to describe how much it actually hurt. I stood there and stared for a moment. It couldn't be, not Fred. He was barely an adult, his whole life ahead of him, how could this hideous war rob us of our joyful spirit?

However bad I felt, though, I had to be strong. If not for my mother, but for George, who was staring into space, tears streaming from his eyes. I walked towards him and wrapped my arms around my little brother, trying to convey things I never could in words.

I still don't feel it was enough.

George was hurting more than any of us, for years he never smiled or laughed, and couldn't bear to look in the mirror. I don't blame him. Perhaps the biggest shock was when him and Angelina got together, and within a week announced she was pregnant. They named the baby Fred. I think my little brother in heaven would've liked that.

I watched Fred play now, on the anniversary of his namesakes death. A smile brushed across my face and I remembered to get those dusty old jumpers with large F's on them out, and give them to George to give to his son.

Yeah, I think Fred will like that.


End file.
